Literature
The Legend
of the Man
Andrew Miele
Monday, August 02, 2010
I discovered the Legend of the Man
freshman year in college. It was a rough time my life. I was living at home,
taking classes at the local college and cleaning offices at night. The future looked
bleak, and I felt left behind. Most of my friends were gone, successfully digging
themselves out of the coalmines before black lung set in. I was depressed,
anxious and fighting anorexia. Life had lost its fluidity, instead becoming a
jerky succession of nervous days. I was grounded to my town my anxiety and my
past, and agonizingly facing a reality for the first time. There was seemingly
nothing ahead I had control over. What had happened to my dreams, those stupid
young ideas? Wasn’t there anything better, and if there was, could I even reach
it? Things have since gotten better, but not because I’ve found all, or even a
few, of the answers. What I did find was a song, “The Man” by Patto. Running at
just over six minutes of my life, it is the greatest fucking song I have ever
heard.
In laymen’s terms, I guess you would
call me a janitor, though on my resume it’s ‘Commercial Cleaner.’ Either way,
I’m the guy stalking around your office at the end of the work day, a GhostBuster’s-esque
vacuum pack on and headphones blaring. It’s really not a bad gig. The hours are
great; I never start before three in the afternoon. We go out on crews of about
four, and each stop takes us about an hour and a half. Then we pack up the
vacuums, rags and mops, pile into the van, light cigarettes and drive to the
next office, hospital, or daycare. We’ll do about four stops a run. I’ve worked
as a cleaner for the past 3 years- give or take time off for school, medical
emergencies etc. I always find myself going back. I feel comfortable cleaning
an office space, just not working in one. My job removes me; I’m watching
others in cubicles, understanding the professional world backwards from its
trash. Some adapt and even enjoy it in some strange way, others don’t. Either
way, dissociation is key; you gotta forget who you are and what you’re doing.
That’s where the music helps. Our schedule involves a lot of time in the van; all
together I probably spend about an hour driving every shift. Music is a
necessity, both during and between stops. During that summer, a couple of
co-workers were on vacation, and it was only me and my uncle working on our
run. My uncle is my mom’s youngest brother-not yet 30-and was, like me, having
a hard time of it lately. He’s just barely out of my age bracket, therefore I
could relate with him. We were both struggling for clarity, an emotional
summation.
One night after work I was watching
the movie “Observe and Report.” In the scene Rodney, a mall security guard
played by Seth Rogan, is chasing the serial-flasher terrorizing his mall. Rodney is a loser; a 35 year
old wannabe cop no one would even give a can of mace, much less a badge and
gun. Yet, for that moment, running all-out past the food court in pursuit of
the pervert who’s become the manifestation for all his problems, Rodney is the
Man. The visual was secondary however to the song playing over it. Any song can
seem great in such a brief clip; it sounded almost too good to be true, but I
was determined on finding out the truth. “The Man” by Patto was a lost song by
a forgotten 70’s British power trio and resurrected by the new stoner-kings of
comedy. I immediately burned it onto a CD brought it into work. My uncle was
struck just as I was. Neither of us could get enough, “The Man” went on
permanent repeat. It became our anthem, a voice for everything we weren’t, but
wanted to be. We screamed along with it over and over again. It became our
religion, a persona, and most importantly, a power. I listened to it at work, at home, while
working out compulsively despite doctors telling me I could die. With that song
playing and our sunglasses on, no one could touch us. By the time we arrived at
the next stop, Jesus Christ were we ready to clean.
We’d discovered “the Legend of the
Man.”
It’s more than a song, it’s a tragedy,
and like any drama The Legend of “the Man” can be separated into stages, or
Acts. Act I is the introduction of the Man. This is the genesis; he’s still off
in the distance, an ephemeral speck on the horizon. “You see, I’m real,” he
says; we hear him before we see him. The very rumor of ‘Him,’ sends tremors
running throughout humanity. Obviously a threat, the fate of the Man becomes martyrdom,
“…got every little thing/it’s all gone now.”Still he is the Man, and could really care less, “it’s a fool who never sees
its time to lose.” He’ll never let the countless bastards get him down because,
“it’s my belief that good will win through in the end.” Then begins Act II: two
minutes of solo xylophone. Nothing could be more appropriate. Life is full of unexpected
and absurd xylophone solos. Then a rapidly profound bass-run- the greatest bass
line I’ve ever heard- and a harbinger of what’s to come. Act III begins as the
Man arrives. Out of the life and death, the up and down, now we see the Man. The
existential crisis threatening the Man is pushed aside. “I saw the Man.” Who is
the Man? It’s everyone of us, “I saw the Man and it’s me alright,” it’s me, it’s
you! Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? The chorus repeats, building and
building until there are no more words just Him standing defiant and alone. Beyond
him lies nothing. The Man does have an end, but he dies screaming, with every
lawman and politician trying to keep him down falling on their knees. It is all
in the Legend of the Man.
The Man is genderless. He is
everything, but you gotta believe in him. I believed in the legend of the Man,
my uncle believed in the Man. You, all of you, should believe too. Ironically,
on account of the problems I’d been having, my own manhood had disappeared. I’d
lost so much weight my testosterone levels were the same as a 6 year old boy’s,
so “The Man” did nothing permanent for my machismo, sanity or the various
psychosomatic problems I and my uncle then faced (it might’ve eventually made them
worse). What it did do was transcend them. Despite every other tie to this
muffled, stilled, stressful life the Man made us forget ourselves and attain a
momentary glimpse of something far better and maybe, far beyond us. When I
drove around in that beat-up old Tahoe with my mind dark and my heart beating
at only 30BPS, I listened to this song over and over. I put my sunglasses on
and I saw him. I swear to God I saw the fucking Man.
And it was me.
TJ
Shevlin
Harlan
Ellison, famed and out spoken sci-fi writer, once said that the only true forms
for American entertainment are jazz, baseball, and comic books. All 3 have very
passionate fan bases; however, one of them has taken a very long time to garner
any true acceptance. Baseball is America's favorite past time, as we all know.
Whether you're a casual watcher, someone who only likes the ballpark
experience, or an avid watcher who requests off from work for a double header,
everyone likes baseball. Jazz is the one type of music that everyone wants to
like, so many people do, but few "get." The genre is still its own
thing and it seems happy that way. Despite the best efforts of celebrities such
as Bill Cosby and Fred Rogers, jazz will always remain on the outside of
mainstream.
Sequential
art has existed for centuries, but the modern comic book has only been around
for a little over 70 years. It's been a slow climb for mainstream acceptance,
but comics are the little engine that will, never mind could. One could say
it's certainly on its way. We've come a long way from readers having to hide
their obsession from others. Nowadays, one seems to have an almost even
ratio at the opening night for super hero films when it comes to casual movie
goer vs. hardcore fan boy who's dreamt of the moment of seeing their hero on
screen. Whatever bracket you fall under, chances are you've at least seen one
or two comic book movies on screen. The impact that comic books have had is
self evident these days. Outside of Hollywood's new love for the medium, you
see comics everywhere. You can turn on G4 for coverage on San Diego Comic-Con
International every year while it’s happening. The hottest video game of last
year was Batman: Arkham Asylum. You see people wearing t-shirts with Iron Man,
Watchmen, and Batman everywhere these days. With more bookstores having full
sections for comic books, the mainstream attention is quite prevalent. Even
better, most libraries are embracing sections for comic books. They’ll do anything
to keep the kids reading well into adulthood.
The
impact is certainly there, yes, but how much of it is from people reading comic
books? It would seem it’s more from the nostalgia that comes from growing up
with these iconic figures on screen. Iconic figures in the 70’s that include
Christopher Reeve as Superman, Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman, and Lou Ferrigno
as the Hulk. Maybe it's the 80s where it was all about 1 super hero on screen -
Michael Keaton in Tim Burton's classic, Batman.
How about Tales From The Crypt on HBO? The 90's, where comic books were
all the rage, ranging from "X-Men" and "Batman: The Animated
Series" on Saturday mornings to "Lois & Clark: The New Adventures
of Superman" in primetime. It could possibly be the past 10 years of comic
books on the silver screen. We've seen our fair share of popular heroes make it
on screen such as Spider-Man, the X-Men, and Batman. Fan favorites such as
Blade, Hellboy, and Kick-Ass have become household names. We've even seen
comics like Road To Perdition, A History Of Violence, and Ghost World, make it
to the big screen. Now with the highly anticipated Scott Pilgrim vs. The
Universe, Green Lantern, Captain America, and Thor on the horizon, the impact
(trend?) isn't stopping anytime soon.
These
days, it seems that the average person isn’t even afraid of the stigma that
used to come with enjoying comic books. Gone are the days of comic book fans
being associated with Jeff Albertson aka Comic Book Guy of "The
Simpsons". Now we have characters like Brodie Bruce from the Kevin Smith
classic "Mallrats" or prime time favorites Sheldon and Leonard on
CBS' "Big Bang Theory". The stereotype is still there, but it's more
in good fun than it is to be made fun of. Perhaps that’s the impact that comics
have on society. We remind the rest of you out there that it’s ok to be a
little weird and geeky. I'll always be one of the loudest on the frontlines to
defend the merits of comic books as legitimate form of art and literature. I'll
also be one of the first to have as much fun with its standing in the forefront
of pop culture. Whether it is sci-fi or
westerns, horror or romance, or the long standing super hero story, there’s
something for everyone and, in the end, isn't that what makes society much more
enjoyable?
The Traditional Japanese Art of Miyazaki Hayao’s Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind
Jonathan Gorga
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
A great deal has been written about manga here in the United States since it
began to capture the imagination of American teenagers, apparently hungry for
sequential art with a foreign flavor, near the turn of the century. But little
has been written about Nausicaä of the
Valley of the Wind, a manga that
was translated and released in the United States before the more recent boom
began. Nausicaä began in 1982 when Miyazaki
Hayao pitched his story for a feature-length anime and was told it wouldn’t be accepted as the current market
demanded only sure things; citing projects based on already established manga as far safer options. Undaunted,
Miyazaki’s producer Isao Takahata said: ‘They want an established manga? Let’s give them an established manga,’ and Miyazaki started writing and
drawing Nausicaä, serializing it in Animage, a magazine (for which Takahata
was on staff) about anime. The anime version of Nausicaä was completed only two years later in 1984.
Their
scheme was a rousing success and the movie was a blockbuster, but Miyazaki
wasn’t finished with his story. Miyazaki was delayed by work on a multitude of
other anime (that is his primary
calling and artistic focus) but he finished the manga version of Nausicaä of
the Valley of the Wind in 1994. This more-than-a-decade-in-the-making manga tells the story of Princess
Nausicaä, a nature-loving girl with a brilliant scientific mind. This much of
the story is inspired by the classic Japanese folktale “The Lady Who Loved
Insects” from Tsutsumi Chunagon
Monogatau. But she also has a war-like ferocity that comes unleashed when
her people, the inhabitants of the Valley of the Wind, are threatened. And
indeed throughout the epic tale her small seaside kingdom is threatened;
threatened by much larger kingdoms and threatened by the Sea of Corruption, a
huge and growing forest of miasma spewing mutated-fungi. The forest is
specified as being caused by a worldwide ecological catastrophe that ended an industrial
golden age centuries earlier. The nature of Nausicaä
of the Valley of the Wind is essentially post-apocalyptic, as it depicts a
world destroyed by over-industrialization, making it only one among many works
Miyazaki has created focusing on the environment. His anime, like Laputa: Castle in
the Sky and Princess Mononoke
also have strong messages about the abuses of the modern industrial world, but
it is generally agreed that nowhere is it quite as focused as it is in the
story of Nausicaä. The basic drawing
style Miyazaki utilizes in Nausicaä
is loose and airy. A rather unusual style among the direct line-work of most manga and even more so when compared
with the current trend of over-rendering among many American comic-book
artists. His faces, however, are, like most manga,
nearly without any shading at all and thus in step with the traditional style
of Japanese portraiture.
Penelope
Mason describes the earliest examples of this style in History of Japanese Art as utilizing an “iron-wire line” in its
line-work and “very little shading to suggest the bone structure of the face.”
She is describing an anonymously painted Ninth Century portrait of a monk, but
she could be describing three small children found on the seventh panel of page
19, panel 7 in the second collected and translated Editor’s Choice Edition
volume of Nausicaä of the Valley of the
Wind.
Other authors have written that Miyazaki’s work is, in this way, a throwback to the ways of ‘Old Japan,’ a world dominated by Shinto with its emphasis on harmony with nature. I contend that Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind is a throwback in another way as well, in its traditional Japanese art style. The girl on the left (females are often identifiable throughout the manga by their jeweled or otherwise decorated headdresses as opposed to the comparatively plain ones of the males) has a heavy amount of shading on her cheek but nary a bit of shading is seen anywhere else, certainly not in the basic facial features of the little children. In this sequence of images, Nausicaä is showing these small refugee children of the Dorok empire how to feed her pet named Teto, a small “squirrelfox” one of many fictional animals Miyazaki peoples his future world with. Little Teto is seen from behind on the right side of the panel. This type of simple style, a ‘suggest with less’ instead of ‘render with more,’ is called cartooning in the West and the Japanese have been using it in their painting for hundreds of years, from the Twelfth Century illustrated Tale of Genji scrolls to Twentieth Century Final Fantasy video game design. Minimalism was always the method of choice for both Japanese and Chinese painters. Another example of this can be found on the third panel on page 100, panel 3 of the first volume.
A
simple image of Nausicaä herself screaming
out “Stop it!!” in her mind (this is denoted by the brackets around the words
within her speech balloon) at the vicious Torumekian
soldiers. Again, shading is rare in the image, merely a bit at the young
Princess’ hairline and the back of her neck, but none in her face. The same
things could be said about the large majority of the huge number of drawings of
people throughout Nausicaä of the Valley
of the Wind.
In the second translated volume of the
manga, after convincing the hardnosed
Princess Kushana that it is worth sending at least a small search party to look
for Nausicaä, (she has been separated from the rest of the military force and
is somewhere in the Sea of Corruption at this point of the story) the loyal vassal
Mito and an unnamed man from the Valley of the Wind take off in the valley’s
gunship (among the only ones remaining of its kind as the knowledge to make
airplanes was lost with all past technological knowledge) against a cloudy sky
with a mere vague triangular shape underneath the cloud-cover. This is the
first panel of the same page depicting the three children from the last
paragraph.
The gunship, in stark contrast with the
background, is fully rendered, a lone shape against the clouds and the
mountain. The image takes up the entire top third of the page. The Japanese
sound effect (which the handy guide in the back of the volume translates as
“vweeeeeen”) is stretched into an elegant shape and does a fine job of giving
the reader a sense of upward movement. The way in which the mountain is merely
suggested with partially obscured lines is highly reminiscent of True View of Mount Asama by Ike Taiga, a
painting of an entire mountain range obscured by clouds in like manner. Miyazaki’s
fascination with nature is somewhat anachronistic in modern day Japan, but
would have no doubt been right at home in any period of Japan’s past. His
‘wide-angle’ panels (cinematic terminology is often used in describing
sequential art merely because no better terminology has been established for
speaking about a panel’s ‘camera placement’ in ‘virtual space’) often depict
wide vistas of natural beauty as they isolate the characters in the foreground.
This is, oddly, the opposite of what Scott McCloud calls, in his landmark
graphic textbook Understanding Comics,
the “masking effect” in manga, i.e. a
heavy rendering of the background, while maintaining a cartoon appearance in
the characters in the foreground. Perhaps McCloud would do well to take a deeper
look at manga and at traditional East
Asian art, as his “masking effect” is clearly a cousin to the concept of the
“obscuring cloud” seen in much Chinese and Japanese art. Another such vista can
be found in the second panel on page 91 of the second volume.
Here
Master Yupa, an elder swordsman and teacher-figure to Nausicaä, has traveled
far to search for a solution to the spread of the Sea of Corruption. He sits
upon an ostrich-like creature, the common load-baring animal of this futuristic
world, as he travels along a shoreline. The rocks that sit upon the beach have
been rather heavily rendered, certainly more so than the background mountain we
saw in the other example. Yupa and his bird companion are quite strongly
rendered as well, but the thing I most want to draw the reader’s attention to
is the words on the page. The text, which floats in a blank space of the beach,
reads: “Two hundred leagues east-northeast of the Valley of the Wind, on the
shores of the Ocean of Salt.” (As translated for the Editor’s Choice Edition by
David Lewis and Toren Smith.) The manner in which the text sits in the middle
of the image is very similar to the way inscriptions were made a part of the
artwork in traditional East Asian art. This can be seen in True View of Mount Asama as well. Mason prints in her book the
first part of a translation of the inscription in Taiga’s painting: “Clouds
billow in the four directions/ The mist breaks—ten thousand and eight peaks.” Both
textual excerpts are descriptions of the image they are imbedded into. In fact,
the sound effect placed next to the gunship in the first example serves much of
the same purpose as well; all three pieces of text serve to locate the reader,
not just as an observer of the printed work, but inside the work as a representation
of a physical place, like most good comics should, whether it is a place that
exists in reality or a part of a fantasy landscape.
Miyazaki
Hayao’s Nausicaä of the Valley of the
Wind is a beautiful work of sequential art in both its narrative complexity
and its visual/cinematic aesthetic. As are other manga and the Italian fumetto
and Chinese manhua and Franco-Belgian
bande dessinée and even American
comic-books. There are entire new worlds of fiction waiting for the reader and
whole new worlds of thought for academia lying in wait. All that is required is
for people to pick them up and read inquisitively. I have only taken a tiny
selection of the many, many panels of this over 1,200-page epic and only
focused on the graphic elements of one manga.
Nausicaä is but one example of one
nation’s comics tradition. Each comic grew out of a unique national incubator,
and as a result each individual work can borrow from the great traditions of
their national art styles to create a remarkable synthesis of words and
pictures.
A Story of Trying to Spiritually Awaken, in the City that Never Sleeps
Phil Stone
Friday, July 16, 2010
WAKING
UP
Do you ever wake up wondering, “Who am I?” I have.
In fact, I bet many have. What do
you do when that happens? What do you
tell yourself? What do you tell yourself
to make yourself feel better? How about,
“I don’t know… but I’m going to find out” But how can one find themselves in
the City that Never Sleeps? Let’s start
from the beginning. I’m told that’s
always a good place to start. So one can
see what led up to where they are.
I was raised Roman Catholic. Not a bad religion. It comes with its perks. Like Christmas for
example. Who doesn’t love
Christmas? And the fact that if you tell
a man your problems you’re absolved of all your sins is a pretty sweet
deal. Like a therapist from God. Though I have heard of certain cases in which
those therapists try to take advantage of kids.
Anyway, I always thought of myself as a good Catholic boy. You know, going to church, praying, and all
that. But recently something
changed. I realized something I never
saw before. I wasn’t happy. In fact, I was afraid. Whenever I did something “wrong” I was
terrified. I was terrified of the
almighty wrath of God. That’s when it
hit me. All my life I’ve been taught to
fear God. To fear a supreme being that’s
supposed to regarded as nothing but unconditional love. Wait… what?
How does that even make any sense?
That’s when it hit me. There has
to be something more in this world.
There has to be something else that people can believe in. How the hell am I going to find that?!
Let’s fast forward now a few years. Within those few years I’ve learned a few
things. For example, I’ve learned about
prayer and meditation. There are two very
similar concepts, yet very different at the same time. I’ve learned about philosophy, self
realization, and self observation. And I
learned that all I know is that I know absolutely nothing at all. But am I there yet? No. Do
I know what there is? I’d like to think
I may have an idea of what “there” is.
The Buddhists call it Nirvana.
And I used to think Nirvana was only a band in the early 90’s. Am I still Roman Catholic? No.
What do I follow? A bit of
everything actually. I’ve learned that
there is more to this world. I’m
learning to be spiritual; to seek happiness and fulfillment. But it’s tough. Especially in a city where there is no time
for spirituality.
Many ask me, what does it mean to be spiritual? There can’t be one single answer. That’s impossible. Spirituality is unique to every person. Like a fingerprint. Spirituality, for me, means seeking out the
truth in one’s self. It means that there
is a Supreme Being willing to help you find Him/ Her as long as you’re looking
for Him/ Her. It means being at peace
with one’s self and being happy with one’s self. It also means seeing your faults and defects
and actually realizing that they’re faults and defects; and on top of that
wanting to actually get rid of those faults and defects. Trust me; these are not simple ideas to
uphold or even understand. It’s a
lifestyle choice to change one’s life for the better but by first going through
crap. This reminds me of an old lesson I
learned from a wise person. “You can’t
have a breakthrough, without first having a breakdown.” This made no sense to me at first. Sometimes it still doesn’t make sense.
This journey isn’t easy.
Believe me. This is where people
loose automatically. The fact that it’s
a hard life sometimes makes people not want to pursue it. It’s understandable. But if you try and fail, well at least you
tried. If you don’t even try at all,
that just makes you a coward. This opens
up shows you another conflict in ones spiritual path; one’s self. The fact that you’re willing change into
something better is great. Doesn’t mean
you’re going to do it. Willpower and
faith play a great deal in what you try to achieve. Another block on the road is other
people. Not everyone you encounter is
spiritual. However, this doesn’t mean
that there isn’t a lesson there for you to learn.
So with all this in mind, can spirituality be achieved in
a city like New York? I believe so. Another lesson from another wise person, “It
doesn’t matter where you go. If you have
problems, they’ll go with you wherever you go.”
So I guess leaving the city means nothing. But in realizing that it probably means I’m
waking up. Luckily I’ve got some tools
and lessons I’ve learned along the way that might be able to help. My name is Phil… I live in New York City… and
I’d like to think I’m on a spiritual path.
Let’s walk it together, let’s make mistakes, and see what we can
learn.
The Green Sting of Death
Ryan Mundaca
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Everyone has a hero. - Whether it be your parent,
neighbor, teacher, historical figure, or even comic book character; heroes
protect us, teach us, and ultimately inspire us. This very web-site is itself the end result of
a hero’s inspiration. And, when your
hero dies, it feels as if the very air has been sucked out of your body. One looks around and sees if there is anyone
they can turn to for help, and sadly, no one can. Such is the feeling I felt when I learned that
The Green Hornet had been murdered.
The Green Hornet is an old pulp/ comic book hero. Created in 1936, the Green Hornet by day is
Britt Reid, owner and publisher of The Daily Sentinel. By night he is a feared vigilante who passes
himself off as a criminal mastermind in order to infiltrate the world of
organized crime and bring it down. He is
usually accompanied by his trusty sidekick, the martial arts expert, Kato. Together they ride into the night in their
car, The Black Beauty, and stop the forces of evil. The Green Hornet first appeared as radio
show. In 1964, The Green Hornet got his
own TV show in which he was played by Van Williams and Kato was played by Bruce
Lee. In the late 80’s he appeared in a
rather unsuccessful comic book series that did not run for very long. Only until that have people been paying
attention to The Green Hornet because of a new movie due out in early 2011. This time he will be portrayed by Seth
Rogen.
So now, owing to this upcoming movie, Dynamite Comics has
acquired the rights to make brand new Green Hornet comics, which truth be told
are actually pretty good. Even Kato is
getting his own run. So why am I
writing this? Why am I upset? Well, Kevin Smith, many of you may know him
better as Silent Bob from the Clerks movies, is writing the new Green Hornet
comic; and he has decided the Britt Reid should pass the mantle of the Green
Hornet over to his son Britt Reid Jr.
OK, I can deal with this.
However, the story begins with The Green Hornet and Kato embarking on
their final adventure. As the night ends
they decide that it’s time to retire from the life of crime fighting. They say their goodbyes and Kato leaves for
an unknown destination. Britt stays with
his wife and baby boy to live the happily- ever-after-life. Let’s fast forward twenty years where Britt
Reid Jr. is nothing more than a spoiled little prick, for lack of a better
word, and he dislikes his father. One
afternoon they decide to get together for their monthly lunch where Jr. decides
to tell his father off. Britt, being the
good father that he is, shrugs it off and even invites his son to attend a
party he will be hosting that evening for an old friend who is now running for
mayor. Oh, and his friend is also aware
that Reid was the Green Hornet, seeing as how he was a district attorney at the
time when Reid would go out to fight crime.
So, at this party things are going fairly smoothly when
suddenly they are attacked by ninjas… Ninjas.
Anyway, during this brawl a beautiful, highly-trained woman appears to
aid the Reid’s during the attack. Britt
notices her technique and sees that she even possesses an old weapon that seems
familiar, which leads us to believe that this is Kato’s daughter. They seem to be holding their own until a
mysterious Black Hornet appears and calls Britt Reid Sr. out for a fight. The fight seems epic enough. That is until
this Black Hornet pulls two guns out from his sleeves and decides to murder
Britt Reid right in front of everyone’s eyes.
And just like that, my hero is gone.
No final memorial issue, no amazing battle side by side with Kato,
nothing. He was discarded and forgotten
as if he had no impact on fans whatsoever.
What’s worse, it feels as if Smith is revamping The Green Hornet because
no one cared about the original character.
Perhaps he feels it’s necessary to wipe out almost 75 years worth of
history and start from a clean slate.
Why do this? Why not give him new
adventures? Many comic books fans may
feel it’s time for a new look. New
look? Many never even looked at the old
look. What makes you think they’re going to be interested at the “new” look?
Now, the original Green Hornet; that was the stuff of
legends. The formula was simple. A crime was committed, The Green Hornet found
out, he and Kato found the culprit, kicked ass, and saved the day. That was it.
He wasn’t Batman. He didn’t have
a utility belt full of gadgets and gizmos; nor did he have the years of martial
arts training. No, the Hornet
investigated the case like a real journalist and that’s what made him
different. He was the journalist who
taught that anyone of us could make a real difference in our city. It didn’t matter what people thought of you. As long as what you were doing was for the
greater good, that’s what mattered. Oh,
and he was classy. He also taught us
that just because you fight crime, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look your
best. In every single one of his
adventures he always wore a green suit with a tie and an overcoat. You really don’t get that in heroes now a
days.
Needless to say I am very distraught about all this. I fully understand that The Green Hornet and
Kato were not as well known as Batman and Robin, Tom and Jerry, or even Sonny
and Cher. But he was my hero. So now I must mourn him and honor him the
only way I know how; through writing. The
Green Hornet was my inspiration to take up journalism and even to open up this
online publication. With that said, I am
writing this feature so that you may all know what he was worth, both to me and
to those who grew up following him on his many adventures. I also fully understand the ridicule I have
and will receive owing to this article.
I am prepared to take such insults.
But as I mentioned, everyone has a hero and when they’re gone it almost
feels as if a part of one’s self goes with them. I understand there will be a new Green
Hornet. Ok, so his legacy will live on,
but that still doesn’t excuse the fact that Silent Bob killed my hero.